


payback

by peachytickles



Series: tua tickle fic week [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: BOTH of these boys suffer from Little Bastard Disease, Tickling, and here's the evidence to prove my diagnosis, here we go again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 05:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21423019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachytickles/pseuds/peachytickles
Summary: luther can't just let sleeping dogs lie. he has to poke them. again. and again. and again.written for the tua tickle fic week on tumblr (created by @anasticklefics)day two/diego
Series: tua tickle fic week [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542655
Kudos: 21





	payback

“Are you struggling a bit there?” Luther sniggered, putting a cup of hot coffee down on his old desk. He folded his arms and leaned back against it, watching as Diego, balanced on the very tips of his toes, stretched his arms towards the ceiling.

“No.” It came out as more of a strangled grunt then an actual _word_, but Luther deciphered it pretty easily. 

“Okay then.”

Usually this would have been where Luther left. But instead he got a small inkling of something – of what exactly, he couldn’t be sure – but it made him stay.

“HHHRRRGH- _Agh!” _Diego strained harder to reach, then lost his balance and pitched forwards. The wooden aeroplane in his hands tumbled towards the ground, but he caught it just in time by the thread, and it bobbed around at his shins. He looked up and saw Luther smirking. “Any reason why you’re still here?”

“No.”

“No?” Diego repeated. His tone was neutral, but the way he frowned was a dead giveaway of his confusion.

“No. I only came up to see how you were getting on.” Luther glanced up at the ceiling. It was very much devoid of aeroplanes.

“_Why?”_

“Thought you might need some help. It’s been forty-five minutes and-“ Luther gesticulated at the room. “Well, you’ve got nothing done, so it looks like you do.”

Diego’s nostrils flared. “I haven’t done _nothing!”_

“Really?” Luther asked, drawing it out in the disbelieving way he knew had _always_ infuriated Diego. “Maybe you should show me what you have been doing, then.”

“I’ve been hanging up your _stupid_ aeroplanes!”

“Diego. I didn’t say _tell _me. I said _show_ me.”

To his credit, Diego didn’t punch Luther, or curse at him, or storm out of the room. He merely grumbled, turned on his heel and started reaching back up towards the ceiling.

Luther watched in amusement. There was no way he was ever going to reach. He wondered how long Diego had been contorting himself like this, and then he wondered if he had even attempted any other methods.

Probably not.

Well.

Maybe that’s where he could step in.

And so he did, stepping forward, and aiming a well-placed poke at Diego’s ribs.

Diego squeaked, hopping just out of his reach. He stared at Luther, wide-eyed with disbelief.

Luther could only snigger at him. “What’s that face for? I just thought maybe you should try jumping!” He grabbed at him with both hands this time, prodding just above his hips.

Diego jumped violently at the sensation. “Don’t!”

“Aw, why not? It works!” He did it again, and Diego bit his lip against a giggle, flinching away. “See, you practically hit the ceiling there!”

Suddenly he realised what that little _inkling _had been. It was the urge to get _payback_.

He debated holding onto Diego, working his sides until he fell to his knees, but ultimately decided against it.

Better to let him get a false sense of security.

And so he let go, and stepped away.

“Yeah, that helped _so_ much,” Diego snarked, but there was no hiding the smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He reached up a third time, balancing on the balls of his feet. As he attempted to work the thread around the tiny hook jutting from the ceiling, he felt the air behind him ripple.

He peeked over his shoulder. It was just Luther taking a book from the shelf behind him. Strange, but okay. Maybe he hadn’t moved as far back as he thought. Whatever. He shook it off, and looked back up.

The awkwardness of his posture had made the thread slip off the hook.

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered, and pulled the aeroplane back down. He worked the thread around his fingers, forming a loop, and lifted his arms.

Something brushed his side.

Probably just a breeze.

But – it was moving…upwards? And the higher it got, the heavier it seemed to get?

Yeah, that was no breeze.

He was about to turn around and smack his brother when he finally, _finally_, saw the loop slip over the hook.

Okay, so maybe resorting to violence could wait a second. He shifted onto his toes, reaching higher with his right arm to tighten the thread…

A hand on his left side, drilling against his uppermost ribs. He yelped, squirming to the side, but was determined not to lose his grip now. He reached further, stretching to his absolute limits –

-and felt a different set of fingers pressing into his right armpit.

“Nngh- damn it – Luther!” Diego yelled. He struggled in place, determined to _at least_ get one fucking aeroplane up.

“Diego!” Luther taunted. He was already snickering more than Diego was, finding blissful amusement in the way Diego was desperately squirming. “Come _on_, you little shit. Laugh a little.”

“Aaah! Ah-_hahaha, no!” _He jerked violently, still fighting against the tickles, before giving in and snapping his arms down.

The aeroplane – thanks be to God – remained attached to the ceiling. Diego breathed a sigh of relief.

Then he squealed as Luther’s fingers moved down to his belly, and he _finally _allowed himself to dissolve into laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @peachytickles


End file.
